The Reluctant Bachelor
by Rointheta
Summary: John Smith is widower twice over, and has been single for nine years. Jack, his best friend and the host of the dating game The Reluctant Bachelor, decides that enough is enough and manages to lure John into participating in the show. Dating Show AU.
1. The Game

**beta: **resile & aimtoallonsy  
**note: **I know absolutely nothing about what it's like to work on TV (especially not British TV), and I've not seen a dating show since I was a kid. So I apologize for anything that sounds weird. :D I mean, we're all here for the smooches anyway, so just bear with me. ;)

* * *

**THE RELUCTANT BACHELOR  
**_Part I - The Game_

* * *

Jack took a deep breath, then let it out in a slow, steady stream whilst dancing on the spot and shaking his arms. One minute left before they went live on the most important episode yet. Not of his career, not even close, but the most important episode to him. But everything was set. He'd been meticulous in his search for bachelorettes, even convinced his new friend Rose Tyler to participate, since he believed she was the perfect match for tonight's bachelor.

He heard the countdown in his earpiece, closed his eyes and held his breath. Three, two, one. Smiling brilliantly, he walked through the curtains and out on stage with his arms open wide and waved at the whooping audience. His heart raced in his chest, something it rarely did now after fifteen years in the business, but this was the first time he was personally invested in the bachelor – and he'd do everything in his power to make sure John Smith left the studio a besotted man.

"Hello, everybody! I'm Jack Harkness – also known as The Love Captain – and I wanna welcome you to the one hundredth episode of The Reluctant Bachelor, a dating show where we set up a single guy who really doesn't wanna be set up, but deep down doesn't wanna be alone either. Gotta love pushy family members, am I right?"

He paused to give the audience a chance to cheer, and winked and pointed at a woman to the far left who wolf whistled.

"Usually, our bachelors agree to be in the show after some cajoling, but tonight's bachelor has no idea why he's here. You see, for our very special celebration tonight, we've invited a very special guy – someone who'd never agree to do this normally. Our bachelor, who has frequently been seen on best dressed lists as well as most eligible bachelor lists, thinks he's just doing a regular job as an expert guest on Harriet Jones – our reigning talk show queen supreme – but he's actually gonna choose one of these three brilliant ladies for a date."

The blue velvet curtains behind him pulled back to reveal three booths standing on the right side of the stage, and a white wall shielding them from the left side. Each booth hosted a bachelorette who wore headphones to drown out any noise coming from the studio, and Jack walked closer, gesturing at them.

"In booth number one, we have Lynda. That's with a y, by the way. Lynda's in her late twenties, works as a production assistant on Big Brother, has two dogs, and loves to…"

Jack furrowed his brow and stared at his cue card, skimming the long list of her activities and hobbies.

"A lot. Let's just say that she's a very sweet and passionate woman, okay? Anyway! In booth number two we have Jabe. Jabe's only thirty-five but already runs the Forest of Cheem – England's largest tropical botanical garden, which was opened ninety years ago by her great grandfather Lord Cheem. Her great passion in life is, well, let's just say that if she spent any more time in that garden, she'd become a tree herself. And, in booth number three, sits Rose. Rose is twenty, works at Henrik's, and dreams of travelling the world."

"But what about our bachelor? As you might've guessed by now, he's no stranger to being on TV. And, since he's a pretty famous guy, we're also disguising his voice. But you guys will of course know who he is. Any ideas who I'm talking about yet?"

A murmur whispered through the audience, and Jack nodded encouragingly. "I think I hear a few correct guesses." He backed to the side whilst turning to face the stage door on the left, indicating it by waving his hand. "Who else could it be, besides our very own Doctor!"

The door opened and Doctor John Smith stepped outside. Several audience members let out piercing shrieks, jumped up and down, and flapped their hands. His blue eyes wandered over the stage, then turned steely when they landed on Jack.

John huffed out a breath. "You have got to be kidding."

"You know the drill." Jack winked. "Smile at the cameras, Doc."

"Don't call me that," John said, but turned to the audience with the friendly smile he'd perfected over the three years of being a regular guest on Harriet's show.

He waved and nodded at the audience whilst walking over to his mark on the stage, lips curling with disdain when Jack rushed over and joined him. But Jack only laughed and slung his arm around John's shoulder.

"The Doctor – or John Smith, as it says on his birth certificate – has been with our network for three years now and is, as you all know, soon launching his very own show, surprisingly enough called The Doctor."

Jack grinned, then let his expression turn solemn whilst he walked over to John's other side, now placing a hand on the man's shoulder.

"We all know his tragic backstory from the personal interview he did with Harriet a couple of months ago. Met the love of his life at the tender age of thirteen, married her at eighteen, and lost her in a boating accident at twenty-two. Five years later he was finally ready to date again, met a lovely laboratory assistant, married her three years later, and lost her after only one year and six months to cancer – and he's been single ever since." He paused to let the audience react, and a collective 'aaaw' sounded in the studio. "And how old are you now, Doc?"

John crossed his arms over his chest. "You tell me. You're the one who threw me a birthday shindig," he said, grimacing at the last word. "Or were you so drunk on those rubbish drinks you mixed you've forgotten?"

"Rubbish? Oh, c'mon. Hypervodka's gonna catch on!"

"Maybe in prison," John said, and the audience laughed.

"C'mon. Humor me. How old are you, Doc?"

John sighed. "Forty." He raised his index finger. "And a half."

"Exactly. Forty – and a half. That means nine years without a date."

"Well done. Didn't know you could count."

Jack's face split into a wide grin. "I'm full of surprises. Anyway, me and the Doc here go way back. I met John in 1991 when I was doing my very first reporting job at the hospital where he was working. Yeah, that's right. He was a practising physician at the age of twenty seven. Genius, this one – and kinda a workaholic."

"I am not a workaholic."

"Let's see. You work as a physician, you do TV appearances, you're launching your own show, and you founded the volunteer organisation TARDIS – The Assembly of Rescuers Doctors Inventors and Schoolteachers – and volunteer your time and expertise every summer instead of taking a vacation like a normal person."

John raised his chin and eyebrows with an intake of breath, tilting his head as he spoke. "I don't consider it work."

"Well, as your best friend, I think–"

"Not any more."

Jack chuckled. "Nah, I'm pretty sure you'll thank me – not dump me – once the night's over. We have three lovely ladies waiting for you, and I'm going to ask them your very first question right after the break. Stay tuned, you guys watching at home. We'll be back, right after this."

They cut to commercial, and as soon as their mics were muted, Jack leaned closer to his friend. "Okay, listen. Sorry for dragging you here, but you know what a stubborn ass you can be. I've tried to set you up with someone for years, Doc. It was the only thing I could think of to finally get you out there again. But you're free to leave. We can't force you to participate. We even have a backup celebrity bachelor. But you gotta tell me now. I can't just switch mid-through the show. Doing it now is bad enough as it is."

"Who is it?"

"Adam Mitchell."

"Adam Mitchell…" John knitted his brow. "I recognise that name."

"He was runner up in The X Factor a couple of years back. And now he plays the synthesiser and sings in Utah Underground. They've had a few When I Saw Space, Don't Go Snapping Your Fingers at Me, Tears of a Dalek, and–"

"What the hell's a Dalek?"

"I don't know. Apparently emo slang for someone who's really detached or something."

"That boy's an idiot. He's in the tabloids all the time. Always with another blonde on his arm."

"Yeah…"

"And you're gonna unleash that idiot on those poor women?"

"Well…"

John scowled. "You planned this."

"Did I?"

"You're gonna pay, Captain. Believe me."

"Looking forward to it. We're coming back from break in thirty. You're in, I take it?"

John huffed, shifting his arms but still holding them tightly crossed over his chest, and nodded.

"Oh, and we're using a voice changer when you're talking to the bachelorettes. So you might sound a little strange."

The scowl returned to John's face, but Jack turned on the megawatt smile that had made his success in this business, and slipped back into the role of dating show host. 

* * *

**.**

* * *

"Hello, ladies. Can you hear me?" Jack asked, now standing where he could see both the bachelorettes and the bachelor on their separate sides of the wall. He waited for the women to nod and say yes, then continued. "Now, you guys know nothing about our bachelor, right? And that's because we want you to be yourselves, not say what you think he'd wanna hear. But I've hand-picked you myself and you've been assured that I, the Love Captain, think you'd be a good fit. And you all trust me, right ladies?"

"You're always right!" Lynda said, smiling. "I read on wikipedia that you got the nickname the Love Captain in college, because you were so good at matchmaking."

"That's right!"

"And because he'd seduced three quarters of the faculty," John said to the audience's loud delight. "And most of the student body."

"I'm neither confirming nor denying that." Jack puffed himself up with a smirk. "But we're not here to talk about me. It's time to sweep our reluctant bachelor off of his feet. Usually our bachelors come up with the questions themselves, with a little help from our lovely producers, but tonight I've written all the questions."

John sighed. "Oh, of course you have."

"Okay, here comes our first question, and we're cutting straight to the chase: what do you look for in a man? Bachelorette number one."

Lynda hummed. "I'm always drawn to handsome men who know how to flirt. But he has to be kind too. Have a good heart. And he must love dogs. I'm not getting rid of my dogs. And telly! Telly's my passion."

"Sounds more like you," John muttered under his breath.

"And how about you, bachelorette number two?"

"I want a well-educated, mature, intelligent man who appreciates the fine things in life. Art, music, good food, travel…" Jabe gave a lopsided smile. "But that doesn't mean I want a posh man. I often travel to jungles and rainforests for work, and I spent my last holiday backpacking through Southeast Asia. He'd have to feel as at home at a fancy fundraiser as he would sleeping under the stars or hiking through the woods."

Although Jack rooted for Rose, he couldn't deny that Jabe was perfect for John – at least on paper – and he shot John a quick look to gauge his reaction. But the other man kept his face neutral.

Jack turned his attention back to the women. "And you, bachelorette number three?"

"Uhm," Rose glanced at her fellow contestants, "never really thought about it. Always fancied older blokes, though," she said, twirling her hoop earring. "Does that answer the question?"

"Oh, I think it does." Jack grinned. "Next question! Bachelorette number one, if you were an animal, what kind of animal would you be?"  
"I'd be a dog, of course." Lynda bounced in her seat. "People always say I look like a chihuahua," she said, and John chuckled, "but I see myself as more of a Bichon Frisé. They're very friendly and happy and playful – and so am I!"  
John turned his back to the audience and the camera, mouthing to Jack, "Sweet. Young?"  
Jack mimicked zipping his mouth shut. "And you, bachelorette number two?"  
"Hm, I'd be a leopard, living in the rainforest, stretching out on a thick branch of a tree to eat my prey."

"Interesting," Jack said, wiggling his eyebrows. If John didn't choose her, Jack just might. "And number three?"

"I'd be a wolf, I reckon"

"Did you say a wolf?" John asked, cocking his ear.

"Well, yeah. I did a paper on wolves for school. In year nine, I think. And it just felt right. Everyone always talks about lone wolves and that, but they're really social animals. They live in big packs and everything. But they're fierce too. Protect their territory. And that's– Yeah, I'd do that. Why? It's not weird, is it? What'd you be? Or, I mean, can I ask that?"

"Yeah, sure. I like bending the rules. Bachelor, what kind of animal would you be?" Jack leered at him. "Or would you prefer me to answer?"

"No, Captain. I'll answer it. I reacted 'cause I– I'd be a wolf too, see."

"Oh." Rose straightened in her seat, cheeks tinted pink, and several audience members hooted.

"Excuse me, I'm trying to have a conversation with a lady," he said, loosening his arms from the hold over his chest and gesturing at the audience. They calmed down, and he bowed his head. "Thank you. Wolves can be fierce, as bachelorette number three said, protective of their own, of their territory, but mostly they avoid physical confrontations. Quite a bad rep, wolves have, but they're a lot more gentle than you'd think. And they form strong attachments to their loved ones. But the real reason why I'd be a wolf is, of course," John pointed at his ears and tapped his nose, "I have afantastic sense of smell and hearing."

Laughter rolled through the audience, and John grinned and re-folded his arms over his chest. Jack moved on to the next question, then the next, doing his best in keeping up a good pace and entertaining everyone. John helped, always remembering to cater to the audience as well by making jokes and keeping eye-contact – quite a change from his first time on TV.

It had taken serious coaxing to get him to appear on Harriet Jones for her show on volunteer work in South America three years ago, and he'd been gruff in front of the cameras. Well, if you asked Jack. John claimed he'd been professional. Even so, he'd made a good enough job: he didn't talk down to the audience, he made it easy for anyone, regardless of education, to understand the science bits of the segment, and he looked good on camera. Harriet had wanted him back for another special a couple of weeks later. After even more coaxing and a hefty donation to TARDIS, John agreed but said he wouldn't be coming back after that.

Then he'd learned that TARDIS had gotten an influx in volunteer workers and donations after each of his television appearances, and promptly changed his tune. One week later, he'd been back on the show, where he charmed the pants off the audience and had Harriet eating out of his hand by the end of the episode. During his following guest spot, she'd even introduced him as her Doctor, and it took no time at all before he was the Doctor with all of Great Britain. 

* * *

**.**

* * *

Jack carried on asking the bachelorette questions, walking freely around the stage to engage with the participants as well as the audience, until it was time for a music number from one of the leading bands in the UK. Whilst the four over-powdered, green-haired band members blared out far too screechy music for Jack's liking, he took the opportunity to ask John if he'd taken a shine to anyone yet.

"I'm not really gonna date one of those women, Jack. I'm just playing my part. Wouldn't wanna go ruin your big hundredth episode celebration, now, would I? And, yes, I know, I'll have to go to at least one date. And, yes, I know, it's gonna be filmed. I'll be on my best behaviour, treat her like a lady, and then we'll go our separate ways."

Jack sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Why do I even try?"

"You know what they say about people who do the same thing over and over again expecting different results."

"Really? Insanity? That your professional opinion, Doc?"

"Ask me again next time you're trying to pull something like this."

"I'm not sure I'm gonna. You're right. It's useless. You're determined to live the rest of your life alone. To die alone. And if that's what you really want, then I'm not gonna stop you. If you don't fall for one of those women, I'll give up."

John narrowed his eyes, tilting his head back and looking down at Jack. "You're really that sure I'm gonna fall in love with one of the– Oh, I see." John nodded, smiling crookedly. "You know one of them, don't you? But which one?"

Jack groaned. "Really? There's no fooling you, is there?"

"Genius, me."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I'm not gonna tell you which one, though. Not a chance. And just so you know, I did hand-pick all of them. I really tried to find women I knew you'd like. So, either way, I think you're gonna go on a date with a real catch."

"But could you say the same to them? It's not fair on them, Jack. Being set up with an old widower set in his ways."

"Well," Jack gave him the most innocent smile in his arsenal, "you're just gonna go on one date anyway, so why does it matter?"

"Good point!" John grinned back, then directed his eyes at the band, jerking his head in time with the music. 

* * *

**.**

* * *

"And that was The Slitheen with their number one hit Skin Suit. Their new album Vinegar is My Kryptonite will be out in stores on April third. April third. With other words, in the future, which brings me to our next question. Bachelorettes, are you ready? If you could travel in time, where would you go?"

"Future! Totally the future." Lynda clapped her hands together. "I'd wanna see if cars can fly, and what the most popular show on telly is, and what the cinema's like. Maybe we've even made contact with aliens!"

"I'd choose future as well," Jabe said. "I want to see what happens to the Earth, to its forests. To the environment. Perhaps, if things were bad, I could do something to change it."

"Maybe cut off a few saplings and bring back to your garden?" Jack asked.

"That would be very dangerous," Jabe and John said simultaneously, which sent the audience laughing.

"Fair enough. And bachelorette number three?"

Rose bit her lip and shrugged, picking at her nails. "I'd go back in time. I'd go back to the year my dad died. I was just a baby. I don't even remember him. And he died alone. It was a hit and run." A sad smile graced her lips. "I'd just wanna hold his hand, so he didn't have to die alone."

The audience murmured, then went silent. Rose shifted in her seat, eyes flickering between the audience and Jack before landing in her lap.

"That's a boring answer, isn't it? Uhm, I suppose I would–"

"No, it's not," John said. "It's a perfect answer."

Rose's head perked up, eyes flashing to the screen as though she could penetrate it, and Jack suppressed a pleased grin. He checked the cue card, realised his next question would be insensitive after what Rose just shared, and skipped ahead. He asked two other questions, noticing how John looked just a little bit more attentive whenever Rose spoke, then went back to the question he'd avoided.

Jack cleared his throat. "What would you do if you, on your first date with our bachelor, learned that you're the first woman he's gone out with since his wife died? Bachelorette number one, you go first."

"Uhm," Lynda said, scrunching up her nose, "I'd tell him that I'm really sorry for his loss, but that he's so brave for getting back on the horse. And that I'm not looking to replace his wife. That we can take it however slow or fast as he likes. And I'd introduce him to my dogs. No one can ever stay sad when they're playing with dogs."

"Thank you, bachelorette number one. And what about you, bachelorette number two?"

"First of all," Jabe said, "I'd tell him how sorry I was, then I'd ask what happened, and how long it'd been. A girl's gotta look out for herself. If it's too recent, I'd politely withdraw. I'm looking for a serious relationship, not helping a man run from his grief. On the contrary, I'd give him the number to this wonderful grief counsellor I know. She really helped me cope when my grandfather passed away. Well, I'd do that either way. It's important to deal properly with your loss."

"Okay. Thank you! And that brings us to bachelorette number three."

"Dunno, think I'd take him out for chips."

"Chips?" John asked, over the sound of the audience chuckling. He frowned at them, and they quieted. "Why chips?"

"I know this great little place. Not a lot of people know about it. They've got gorgeous chips, but they're not that busy, you know what I mean? You can have your chips in peace and quiet, if you like. So, I reckon that would be nice. Then you could talk, if you wanted. Or we could just sit and eat. Whatever happened, we'd at least eat the best chips in London, yeah?"

A soft smile spread on John's face, crinkling his eyes, and he ducked his head in a nod. The producer told Jack via his earpiece to up the pace, since the break was coming up, and he shot straight to the next question.

"We have time for one more question before we go to break – after that it's time for our bachelor to choose which bachelorette he wants to date. So, this really is your chance to leave him with a good impression before he makes his decision, ladies. Bachelorette number one, what's your main goal in life?"

Lynda beamed. "I want to create and produce my own reality TV show! I have an idea and everything."

"Oh, really? Wanna share your idea?"

"Yeah! Okay, so listen to this," she held up her hands, "bear with me."

John nodded. "Okay, go on."

"No, I mean. It's called Bear with Me, and it's three people living with a bear! Doesn't that sound brilliant?"

"It sounds mental!" Rose slapped a hand over her mouth, cheeks turning red, but the audience cheered her on with applause and encouraging hollers. "Sorry. It's just– What if someone gets hurt?"

"I've thought about that, of course. We'd take all safety precautions and–"

"I'm sure it's a great idea, bachelorette number one," Jack said, "but we need to move on to bachelorette number two."

"Well," Jabe paused, uncrossed and recrossed her legs, and folded her hands in her lap, "I've already achieved it. I just want to keep doing what I love. Granted, it would be lovely to share it with someone who loves nature as much as I do, but I wouldn't call it my main goal in life."

Jack patted John on the shoulder. "Our bachelor here loves nature, don't you?"

"Yep." John nodded. "And bachelorette number three?"

"Hey, that's my line. What d'you say, bachelorette number three? Do you have any dreams you wanna achieve?"

"Uhm, well, I've always dreamed of travelling. Wanted to see the world. But I've never been anywhere, except a school trip to Paris when I was thirteen." Rose shrugged one shoulder. "Can't really afford travelling. So I looked up alternatives. Like, what I can do to travel cheap and all. And there's backpacking of course, but what really– Oh, this is stupid."

"No, it's not," Jack said, smiling at Rose, who was nibbling on her lip and picking at the hemline of her top. "C'mon, you can tell us."

"Well, I, uhm, I realised you can do volunteer work, right, and you'd be able to see the world and everything, but help people too. And I really liked the sound of that. But then I talked to my– Well, I don't really have anything to offer, do I? Who'd want a shopgirl to help people in need? I can barely make beans on toast without burning down the flat and I don't even have my A-levels. I'm not fit to teach kids how to read, or build houses, or–"

"You have the wish to help others," John said. "That's more than a lot of people have."

"Suppose, but–"

"Have you ever heard of an organisation called TARDIS?"

"Yeah, of course. Everyone has."

"I work with them from time to time. And I can guarantee you that they'd love to have you."

"Really?" Rose's lips twitched, as though she didn't dare to believe him just yet and were holding back a smile. "But you don't even know me."

"Wouldn't say that. Besides, Jack hand-picked you. And if he thinks you're good enough for a friend of his, I reckon you have to be pretty damn fantastic."

The smile spread into a full beam that rounded Rose's flushed cheeks, and Jack was struck by the urge to break down the wall separating the bachelor from the bachelorettes. John would never admit it, but Jack could tell he was already drawn to the young woman. If John could only see her now, have her radiant smile aimed at him, his already crumbling defenses would take quite a blow – and Jack could pat himself on the back for a job well done.

* * *

_tbc_


	2. The Deal

**Beta**: aimtoallonsy

* * *

**THE RELUCTANT BACHELOR  
**_Part II: The Deal_

* * *

Rose watched Jack leave his spot at the centre of the stage to move over to where the bachelor stood. It was time for him to make a choice. She swallowed and licked her lips, moved her hands from fiddling with her earring, to picking at a loose thread on the hem of her top, then twirling a lock of hair. Too many rounds with bottle bleach had left it coarse and brittle, with an abundance of split ends. Authenticity, that's the ticket, one of the producers had told her after explaining that she should wear her own clothes and jewellery, do her own hair. But they'd fixed her makeup – apparently you needed professional help to look even normal on telly – and if the bachelor chose her, they'd fix her up for the date as well. Everything else, though, screamed shopgirl living on the council estate with her mum.

"Now," Rose jolted at the sound of Jack's voice and clasped her hands in her lap to stop fidgeting, "our bachelor's spent the past hour getting to know our bachelorettes, and it's time for him to make his choice. Once he does, the lady in question will walk up to the white wall right here. It will be lifted, and our couple will lay eyes on each other for the first time.

"They'll then take our limo to Barcelona – the restaurant, not the city," Jack said, and the audience laughed even though he made the same joke in every episode, "where they'll have their first out of, hopefully, many fantastic dates. And our cameras will join them, of course." Jack paused. He always did that as well – just a simple pause, no drumroll or anything – to ramp up the anticipation. "So, bachelor, have you reached a decision?"

The bachelor hummed. "It's a tough decision to make. They're all lovely. Now, no need to look that smug, Captain," he said, and Rose chuckled along with the audience this time. She couldn't see Jack, but knew exactly what look he was wearing, all pleased-as-punch smirk and chest swelling with pride. "Number one's sweet. Dead sweet. And her energy's infectious. Can't imagine ever having a bad day with her around. Number two sounds like one hell of a woman, like someone you'd discuss the meaning of life with one day, then stop global warming with the next. And number three…"

Rose waited with bated breath and her mouth hanging open.

"Number three's– Ehm, she–" He hummed again, and Rose frowned, leaning forward in her chair. Couldn't he find a single nice thing to say about her after saying such wonderful things about the other bachelorettes? "She's just…"

He trailed off again and Rose squirmed in her seat, instinctively searching for her mum in the audience, even though the spotlights blinded her too much for her to make out any faces.

"The one?" Jack said, and Rose's head snapped in the direction of the wall.

"I don't believe in that," the bachelor said. "But she's my choice, yeah. I choose bachelorette number three."

The ear-ringing roar of applause and cheers filled the studio. Rose's heart thumped. She blinked. Then her lungs started burning, and her body exhaled before sucking in a breath. The door to her booth opened, and a woman in a sparkly golden dress stood outside, extending her hand. Rose took it and let herself be led out on stage, over to the white wall. Her eyes flitted between it and the woman.

"What's happening?" she whispered.

"You won, sweetheart." The woman smiled. "The bachelor chose you."

"What?"

The woman chuckled and gave Rose's shoulder a squeeze. "You'll see him any second now. They're just letting him say hi and shake the hands of the other women, and then they're lifting the wall."

"What?"

"Just stand here and look straight ahead. Jabe and Lynda just went backstage to give their interviews. They're lifting the wall now."

"Oh. Thank you, uh– What's your name?"

"Gwen. Good luck now," she said and, after another squeeze on Rose's shoulder, left the stage.

Rose shook her head and wiped her damp hands on her baggy jeans, locking her eyes at the wall in front of her, then letting them fall to the edge once it inched upward. First it revealed a pair of polished black boots and dark jeans, and she let her gaze drift slightly to the left when the crotch was visible. No way that she'd stare at her date's package on telly or with her mum in the audience. Then, she returned her gaze in time to see a moss green, expensive wool jumper worn under a well-broken-in leather jacket. Wait. She knew this outfit.

"Doctor?" she said, flickering her eyes up to his face just in time to see it fall in disappointment. "Oh."

Before ducking her head to hide her flushed cheeks, she registered him plastering on a polite smile. Of course he was disappointed. Going on a date with a useless chav when he could've dined with lady Jabe Cheem, of all people. Whilst she, Rose, and Lynda had waited in the green room earlier, the other women had discussed the great Atlantic smog storm. Rose had never even heard of it and had sunk back in the sofa, flipping through a magazine instead.

A dry, warm hand slid into hers, bringing her attention back to the present. Jack stood farther ahead, telling the audience about how _The Slitheen_would take the stage again and how the rest of the special episode would deal with interviews of past couples and what their lives looked like now. The Doctor looked at her, smile softer now, and she managed to give him one in return. The cameras might not be focussing on her any more, but she was still on stage and had a part to play. This episode meant a great deal to Jack, and she would do her best to help him make it perfect.

"John Smith," the Doctor said, leaning closer to her ear.

"Rose Tyler."

"Nice to meet you, Rose."

"Yeah?" She smiled to disguise how she talked through clenched teeth. "Surprised you're not running for your life."

"Why would I–"

"Excuse me." Gwen stood behind them. "Come with me, please. It's time for you to get ready for your date."

Rose frowned but followed the woman, hand in hand with the Doctor. Ever since she'd befriended Jack months earlier, she'd watched the show and knew the drill. The focus usually lay on the happy couple at this point of the show, at their introduction and the first cute smiles they exchanged.

She sighed and slipped her hand out of the Doctor's, trodding after Gwen until a blue-haired young woman named Raffalo took over and showed Rose the way to the dressing room where stylists and makeup artists would get her ready for her date.

* * *

**.**

* * *

Jack stormed into John's dressing room and slammed the door shut behind him. His friend, who stood by the mirror tying the purple silk tie the show's stylist had picked out for him, turned around and stared at Jack with round eyes and raised eyebrows.

"What the fuck, Doc! You couldn't have fucking schooled your damn features? You know how this works! You're not a damn amateur. I had to start babbling about _The Slitheens_ and god knows what else, because I had to distract the audience and the people at home from your damn disappointed face!"

John did school his features now and returned his attention to the tie. Jack suppressed the urge to grab ahold of that tie, pull John closer and shout some sense into him. Instead he clenched his hands into fists and slumped down into the two-seat sofa standing in the room.

"We usually film the bachelor and bachelorette's sweet first meeting when they introduce themselves and shit, but I–" Jack groaned out a sigh. "_The Slitheen_ are playing. I need to get out there soon, but I just had to make sure you'd behave. I've not had a chance to talk to Rose yet. I can't even imagine what must be going through her head. What a fucking blow to her confidence. And it's my fault."

He scrubbed his hands over his face. "I just wanna tell her to go home, to be honest with you. But she'd never do that. Not Rose. I just don't get it! She's gorgeous! I've seen the women you check out. You might not date, but you sure as hell look. There's no way you didn't find her attractive. And she's great, too." Jack shook his head. "All those ladies are good matches for you. But Rose? Honestly? I knew you'd choose her. She's perfect for you. You'd be brilliant together."

He got up from the sofa and headed to the door. "I need to get back," he said, already one foot out of the dressing room, and pointed at John. "And you need to fucking behave."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

"I mean it." Jack opened his mouth, hesitated, then swallowed before continuing. "You know why we have that wall, right? Why you don't get to see them. Think about that."

He closed the door, quickly checked his hair in a long mirror running along the corridor wall, breathed out, and let a brilliant smile light up his face before rushing back to do his job.

* * *

**.**

* * *

Out of his usual armour of jeans and leather jacket, John waited in the green room for Rose to appear. They were to walk out on stage again, show off their date outfits, wave to the audience, and then hop into a limo and go to Barcelona for a three-course meal. He tugged at his collar, at his tie, then smoothed out the lapels of his smart suit, widened his stance and folded his arms over his chest.

Lynda walked into the room, then started when she saw him. She gave him a shy smile and told him how she'd just given her interview about her feelings regarding tonight's show. Now she was waiting for Jabe because they'd decided to go out for drinks at a club called The Game Station.

"Heard of it?" she asked, and he shook his head. "Used to be called Satellite Five."

"Oh, yeah, I've been there." He nodded, thoughts wandering back to his early days with Jo, his second wife, who'd loved to dance. "Feels like a hundred years ago by now."

"A hundred years?" Lynda grinned. "Looking good on it."

"I moisturise."

She laughed. "Not had work done, then?"

"Really?" He pointed at his face. "Does it look like anyone's worked on this mug?"

"I like it! Gives you character." Lynda weaved her fingers together, fidgeting with them, and inched closer. "Did you mean what you said? About me being sweet."

"Yeah, said dead sweet, didn't I?"

"No one's ever called me sweet before." When she moved even closer, he straightened his posture and tilted his head back, watching her. "Or said my energy's infectious for that matter. Most people seem to think I'm annoying."

"Find it hard to believe, that. Look, it wasn't an easy decision. I meant it when I said you're all lovely. And I wish I could take you all out on a date, but that's not how this works."

"Reckon Jack would've liked it, though."

John chuckled quietly. "Reckon you're right."

The sound of a door opening drew their attention to Rose entering the room. She wore a form-fitting dress with a plunging neckline, the bright red of the fabric matching her lipstick. Her cheeks glowed with a healthy blush, and the smile of someone who couldn't believe how beautiful they looked brightened her eyes.

John's jaw dropped. "Blimey. You look _beautiful_."

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself, but Rose neither smiled nor thanked him. She only mumbled, "considering," under her breath, pursed her lips and, with a glance at Lynda, walked across the room to the door which would take them back to the stage. The black high-heels she wore gave her hips an entrancing sway, and although Lynda was excusing herself to leave, he couldn't tear his eyes off Rose. Even his body shifted towards her.

"Considering what?" he asked, faintly aware of Lynda leaving the room.

Rose stopped, huffed and turned around, sweeping her fringe to the side and tucking the ends behind her ear. "Considering I'm a chav."

"What?"

"I saw your face. _Everyone_ saw your face." She licked her lips and, looking to the left of him, played with her earring, diamond studs now instead of hoops. "They did our makeup, right, but they told us to wear our own clothes, do our own hair, 'cause we're not supposed to be someone we're not. They like authenticity on this show or whatever. But I get it. You're this fancy doctor. You're _the_ Doctor. And I'm just Rose Tyler, shopgirl from the Estate. Not the first time someone's looked down on–"

"That's not– I was disappointed." He raised his chin. "Not gonna lie about that. But not because of– Not even gonna use that word." He sighed and dropped his arms. "Rose, you're young enough to be my daughter."

"Oh, come off it. Older blokes never have a problem with my age."

"That doesn't surprise me. Men are usually apes, see."

A smile twitched at her lips. "Yeah? Maybe you're right. Last serious boyfriend and me got together when I was sixteen and he was twenty-one. The one before that, I was almost fifteen and he was twenty."

"See? Apes."

She couldn't hold back the smile now, and when she looked up at him, sparkling eyes meeting his, he couldn't stop a goofy grin of his own from spreading across his face. Her brows drew together and her smile faded, hand finding its way back to fiddle with her earring, eyes wandering back to stare at a spot on the wall behind him.

"Look," she said, "I know we're not gonna go on a second date. And that's fine. I wouldn't have said yes if I thought I had a chance of winning this stupid show. I just did it 'cause Jack's a friend, all right? So, I didn't really expect anything. Not even looking for a new boyfriend. So, uhm, yeah. As far as I'm concerned you can go with Lynda if you like, but it's the hundredth episode, and it's important to Jack. And you switching a bachelorette after–"

"I wasn't trying to switch bachelorette."

"Yeah, all right."

"I wasn't."

"Huh. Should've known. You didn't wanna be here, did you? The eternal bachelor, that's what the papers call you. Oh, remember that article? _The Doctor Doesn't Do Domestics_," she said, making her voice dark and booming. "You wouldn't have wanted to go with Lynda or Jabe anyway, would you?"

He folded his arms over his chest, listening to her with his chin tilted down.

"So, uhm, we're both doing this for Jack, right? Just two strangers sharing a friendly meal. But I think we should at least make sure to give a good show. Play it up for the cameras, yeah? For Jack's sake. But we don't need to drag it out, you know what I mean? No dessert and stuff. And then, uhm, then we'll go our separate ways. All right?"

She cleared her throat and adjusted the fit of her dress, plucking at it like someone more comfortable in the kind of cheap, loose-fitting jeans she'd worn on stage – like someone who'd never even _dreamt_ that they would be going to a two Michelin star restaurant. Something inside him clenched at the thought that a woman so hungry for new experiences wouldn't be allowed to try fine dining now that she had the chance.

She sighed and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and he realised she was waiting for an answer, whilst he only stood there like a lemon, staring at her.

He huffed, mouth quirked into a half-smile. "What? You're gonna make me miss out on Clara Oswald's famous chocolate soufflé? Downright cruel, that. And here I was, thinking you had a heart of gold."

Rose bit her lip, grinning. "Yeah, all right. If it's that important to you, I guess I can stay for dessert."

* * *

**.**

* * *

Raffalo ushered Rose and the Doctor out of the studio and to the limo waiting outside. Although Rose already knew the intricacies of the show, had already agreed to them, Raffalo took this opportunity to go through them again. The cameras would document their every move and, for the audience's viewing pleasure, stream the Doctor and Rose's date on a wide screen hanging at the back of the stage. Then, after the date, they'd give an interview each and the footage would be edited down to an hour to air the following day for the viewers at home. Once she was done, Raffalo wished them good luck, nodded at the chauffeur and scurried back into the studio.

Rose slid inside first, then paused when she saw a cameraman already seated there. He was going to film their exit as well. The tabloids were always full of images of starlets stumbling out of cars and flashing their knickers. She had to be more careful when she got out. With a smile, she greeted the cameraman, but he told her to act as if he wasn't there at all. She nodded and made herself comfortable, watching the Doctor shuffling inside, bowing his head at the cameraman, and sitting down opposite her, right next to the bar.

"Drink?"

"Uhm, yeah, sure." She shifted in her seat and arranged the skirt over her legs. "Just give me whatever."

He filled two tumblers with large ice cubes, then poured golden liquid over them before handing her one of the glasses.

"On the rocks, eh?" She swirled her drink, then took a sip and crinkled her nose at the taste. "Thought you were supposed to drink it neat."

"When it's cold, it doesn't taste as much."

He smirked and brought the glass to face height, looking at her over the rim in a way that made her mouth fall open in a half smile and her cheeks heat up. She took another taste, a mouthful this time, so she could blame any similar reactions on the alcohol. If he flirted with her at all, it was only for the sake of the cameras. She couldn't afford to forget that, not when his eyes were that blue and piercing, and his hands looked like they'd worship her body with gentle precision.

"Then," he said, turning his eyes to the tumbler and she breathed out, "when the ice melts and dilutes the drink, the sting of alcohol diminishes and it makes it easier for you to detect the different taste components." He took a demonstrative swig and let out a content _ah_.

"Really?" She sipped again, smacked her tongue, but she couldn't tell a difference from when she'd had it neat. Couldn't even tell the difference between this most likely expensive drink and the cheap stuff she'd drunk with her ex Jimmy.

"Depends on your palate, of course. Some will say that it waters it down."

"Sounds good to me."

"Don't like it?"

"No," she said, shaking her head but smiling. "But I reckon I need some liquid courage. Feels kinda weird." She glanced at the camera man. "Going on a date with the Doctor whilst all of Britain watches. Whilst my _mum_ watches." Rose let out a laugh. "Oh, my god. She's gonna be so jealous."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I'm not really into talk shows, but she likes _Harriet Jones_, and after your first appearance, she sat like glued in front of the telly each time you came back as a guest. And since I live at home, she forced me to watch it, too. She fancies the pants off you."

He blinked. "Your mum fancies me. Your _mum_."

Rose gave him such an innocent look that surely a gleaming halo had popped up above her head. "Yeah."

He tucked his chin and raised his eyebrows at her. "I'm making an effort not to be insulted."

"I mean, you're a bit of all right, and all. But you're more her type, you are."

"Okay, thanks. That really helped." He nodded, mouth frowning, but eyes glittering. "What's your type, then, Rose Tyler?"

"Hm." She squinted and looked up at the ceiling as she thought. "Chips. Yeah. My type's chips. You're hungry, and there it is, fast and easy and gorgeous. But it's not proper food. It's not healthy. And you end up with this weird feeling in your stomach where you're full but still feel empty. And you know you really needed something with more protein, but then your money's gone and you end up feeling like a bloody fool."

"Ah. So you're looking for meat?"

"Yeah. Man meat."

They stared at one another, then burst out laughing. Their knees bumped together and Rose spilled a drop of her drink on his thigh, close to his groin. She sucked in a sharp breath.

"Oh, shit! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She scrambled after a couple of tissues from the bar and blotted the stain. "I'm such an idiot. I'm so so–"

His fingers closed around her wrist and she stared at them, at how close her own had got to his package, and she blushed so hard even her ears burned. He removed her hand but brushed his thumb over her knuckles before letting her go.

"It's just a pair of trousers, Rose. I'm fine."

"Yeah." She breathed out, then started laughing again. "Here I sit, saying I want man meat, then I start touching you in your...private...area." She raised her glass to the camera. "I bet you're proud now, mum."

"Is your mum conservative?"

"What? God, no. I was serious. She'd really be proud."

The Doctor's eyebrows shot up, then a grin covered his face and he grabbed the bottle, moving it over to Rose's glass. "Then I don't think she'd mind my topping off your drink."

"No. Not that it matters." Rose gave him a pointed look. "I'm old enough to decide for myself."

"So, who's that chips fella?" He downed the rest of his drink, then filled up his glass, bringing it back to his lips. "Sensing a story there."

"Yeah. Suppose there is." Rose moved her drink from one hand to the other, shooting the cameraman another glance. "Dunno– Uhm, this is really a third date story, though. You know, one where I tell you about my pathetic love life and then make you forget all about it when I shag your brains out afterwards."

The Doctor choked on his drink, and she beamed at him, tongue poking out between her teeth.

"But, I suppose, since this is just the first date and all, that I'll just tell you the story. Okay?"

"Yeah. Ahem. Go on."

"Uhm, all right. So, I fell for the wrong bloke, of course. Should've known he was a right tosser. Had the track record of one. But I thought I was special, you know?" She rolled her eyes. "I bet they all thought that, didn't they? Anyway, one day he just up and left. Had found someone else, his friends told me."

"His friends?"

"Yeah. Said he was a tosser, didn't I? And I was left with our bills. 'Cause everything was in my name, of course. He was an artist. A rockstar. He couldn't be arsed to think about stuff like that 'cause his head was full of music. So I took care of all of that and he just gave me his share of the bills when I asked him. If he had the money, that is. But then he left.

"And I didn't have enough, not even after I'd cleaned out my savings account. So mum stepped in. She says I don't need to pay her back, 'cause I was saving up for a roadtrip across America with my mates Shareen and Keisha. We've dreamt of that since we were kids, right, but–" Rose shrugged. "I could never enjoy my trip if I knew that mum didn't have any savings because of my stupid mistake. It'll just take me a little longer, but I'll get there."

"And what about your friends?"

"They went without me." When she noticed his furrowed brow, she said, "And I don't blame them. Not one bit. I know how easy it is to lose what you have. And they do as well. Better go after what you want whilst you still have the chance, yeah?"

He nodded slowly, eyes getting a faraway look in them.

"Anyway, so this place we're going to, is it gonna be all _Pretty Woman_? Me and forty billion forks I don't know when to use. And then I'll throw my escargots all over the restaurant."

His eyes cleared, focussed on her. "Are you worried about that?"

"No," she said through a chuckle. "If I don't know what to do, I'll just ask. And I won't try the snails anyway. Reckon I'm gonna eat the most expensive thing on the menu."

"The most expensive thing on the menu _is_ escargots."

Rose's jaw slackened. "Are you serious?"

His grin stretched from one large ear to another and he shook his head. "If memory serves me, and it does, it's some sort of caviar dish. Never tried it myself. I'll go with the duck breast."

"Yeah? Breast man?" she asked with arched brows, but he just shook his head. "No? Like a good bum, then? Good bum, good smile. That's what I like."

"Me too," he said, and the smile he gave her made her stomach flip.

She averted her eyes for a second, inhaling deeply through her nose. It was just for show; she couldn't let herself be swept away. When she looked back at him, she found him watching her with furrowed brow, but he broke eye contact right away. Then the limo pulled to a soft stop, the driver opened the door, and the cameraman told them to wait whilst he climbed out and got ready to film their entrance.

At the cameraman's signal, the Doctor got out and offered Rose his hand. She smiled at him but exited the limo out on her own, careful to not flash her knickers.

* * *

**tbc**


	3. Red Wine & Scheming

**Beta**: aimtoallonsy  
**Note**: thanks to resile for reading it through when i needed advice on something.  
**  
**

* * *

**THE RELUCTANT BACHELOR  
**_Part III - Red Wine & Scheming_

* * *

Gwen covered a yawn with the back of her hand and pulled open the door to Jack's office. The yawn caught in her throat and she coughed, staring at the sight before her. On his knees, the fairly new production assistant Ianto Jones stood in front of Jack with his mouth full of cock.

"Oh, hi!" Jack flashed her a grin. "Give me a minute. Or," he glanced down at Ianto, who'd frozen, cheeks hollow and eyes dark, "five? Yeah. Five."

Gwen nodded and tried to reply, but nothing came out except incoherent sputtering.

"Unless you wanna join us?"

"No, thank you," she said and pulled the door shut, then leant back against the wall with a thud.

A short while later – she honestly couldn't tell whether it was five minutes – Ianto stepped through the door, wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers, and nodded at her.

"Miss Cooper."

"Ianto."

"He's ready now. Have a nice evening."

"Thank you," she said and entered Jack's office. He sat on the lounge suite in front of the TV set at the far end of the spacious room. "So, how long's that been going on?"

"Couple of months." Jack patted the empty seat behind him. "Wanna come watch with me?"

"That was the plan, yes." She kicked off her shoes and plonked down with a sigh. "Knew you wouldn't leave without seeing the footage and reckoned you'd want the company."

Jack hummed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer and pressing his lips to her temple. "You know me so well. I've already called the Doc to ask him how it went, but he's not picking up. Neither's Rose."

"So…" Gwen inclined her head in the direction of the door. "You two serious?"

"Me and Ianto?" Jack shrugged and grabbed her hand, running his fingers over her engagement ring. "Does Rhys know you're here?"

"He does."

"And he's okay with that?"

"He's jealous, but you're my closest friend and I've told him he just has to learn to accept it. Now, come on. Let's watch that Doctor of yours make a fool of himself."

Jack groaned and picked up the remote. "I really hope he behaved or I'll have to apologise to Rose for weeks." 

* * *

**.**

* * *

"Oh, god. That man's arse-over-elbow." Gwen took a mouthful of the red wine Jack had poured for her, then gestured at the telly, liquid sloshing in the glass. "Look at him."

"Yeah? He does look pretty smitten, doesn't he?"

Rose was sharing a funny anecdote and the Doctor was hanging onto her every word, mirroring her every smile. He rarely laughed, mostly lifted his shoulders with a quiet chuckle at the funny parts, but he exuded a contentment Jack hadn't seen in him since before Jo fell ill.

"Too bad she's not into him," Gwen said, snuggling closer and resting her head against Jack's chest.

Jack furrowed his brow, humming, and rested his whiskey tumbler against his lip. Rose _did_ flirt; she flirted and charmed and laughed, even let her tongue peek out between her teeth when she said something particularly cheeky. But none of her behaviour held the sort of intimacy and nerves flirting with intent did. They might not have been friends for long, Jack and Rose, but he'd seen her generic flirting enough times by now to recognise it.

He took a sip, sucking the whiskey through his teeth, and exhaled. He'd been so sure that Rose would fall for John, that she'd appreciate spending time with someone who'd look past her appearance and see the intelligent, young woman she really was.

"Wow, this is a bummer." Jack shook his head and finished his drink, placing the glass on the table. "I can't believe I was so wrong."

"I'm sorry. Maybe– Oh, what's this, now?" Gwen said when a man walked up to John and Rose's table and asked the Doc to take a look at one of his moles. "The nerve on that man. Can't he see they're on a date?"

_"Excuse me,"_ John said to the man, _"can't you see I'm on a date?"_

Gwen laughed and raised her glass to the telly.

_"It's fine._" Rose smiled. _"I don't mind. Go on."_

"It's staged," Jack said. "Need to make sure stuff happens, you know? It's still a TV show. The boss wanted me to have someone talk behind her back, like, uh, maybe someone recognising her from Henrik's and maybe calling her a gold digger, but I said no. Sure, it would make good TV. The Doc would've bitten their heads off, but I couldn't do that to Rose."

"That's sweet of– Oh, my god. Look!" Gwen bounced in her seat, pointing at the TV. "Look, Jack."

Whilst John had slipped on a pair of glasses to inspect the mole on the man's forearm, Rose was inspecting John. Her eyes drifted over his jawline, lingered at his lips, and followed the movements of his fingers whilst her own absentmindedly twirled a lock of hair that hung loosely from her updo. She licked her lips, folded the bottom one into her mouth and bit down on it, looking as though she'd pounce on him at the first sign of reciprocated interest. Then John tugged down the man's sleeve and put his glasses back into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and Rose quickly schooled her features and drunk from her water glass whilst gazing out over the busy restaurant.

John told the man that the mole looked fine and sent him on his way, then apologised to Rose. But she only smiled at John, which made _him_ smile, and they ended up grinning at one another for so long the pop of a champagne bottle opening at another table made all of them jump – Jack and Gwen included.

"It's happening," Jack whispered, chest expanding with fuzzy warmth. "It's finally happening. I really am the Love Captain, huh?"

Gwen indulged him with a chuckle. "You really are."

The sudden sound had broken the spell for the dating couple, but their moment hadn't brought any unease into the conversation, and they spent the rest of the date free from interruptions and uncomfortable silences. When it was time for John Smith and Rose Tyler to part ways and go home in separate cars before having their separate interviews, Jack could barely sit still from the anticipation. He clutched Gwen's hand and leaned forward, eyes glued on the TV.

_"I had a lovely time,"_ John said to Rose, corners of his mouth tugged up.

_"Yeah, me too. And that soufflé was gorgeous. Totally worth going on a date with you for."_

_"Oi!"_

She burst out laughing, and his indignant frown turned into a full blown grin. _"Really, though, Doctor. I had a lovely time as well."_ She fiddled with her earring, swivelling gently on the spot. _Anyway..._

_"Night, then, Rose Tyler,"_ he said, hand outstretched for a shake.

She shook it. _"Mr. Smith."_

_"Night,"_ he said again with a small nod, then made an awkward shuffle backwards before turning around and slipping into a town car waiting for him by the kerb.

Rose sighed and climbed into the car assigned to her, and the camera shut off then flickered to life, showing the Doctor inside the car.

"Are you fucking kidding me." Jack dropped Gwen's hand and banged his fist into his thigh. "Are you _fucking_ kidding me. We saw him! We all saw him! You saw him. I saw him. He's into her! He's into her and he's wasting this fucking awesome chance at something amazing because he's a scared fucking fuck."

Gwen patted him on the knee. "You're quite the poet."

"There's no one who can make me as angry as him. No one!"

"That's cos you love him, though."

Jack drew in a deep breath, exhaling in a _yeah_, then grew quiet, and they watched the interviews in silence. The relaxed, approachable John from the date had been replaced by the professional, genteel Doctor who spoke of Rose in a positive but detached manner. To the question of whether he believed they'd meet again, he just smiled and said, "I should be so lucky."

Jack shook his head but bit back his snarky remarks, nursing his drink instead. Then the camera switched off and Rose's reel came on, filmed from inside her car. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, her updo had started to fall apart from all her fidgeting, and her lipstick had mostly worn off.

"He was great," she said, looking at the interviewer instead of into the camera. "Really great. I had a lot of fun." She smiled widely, but tilted her chin down and stared at her knees before drawing in a breath and tossing her head back, loose wisps of hair dancing around her face. "Food was gorgeous too. I had a great time."

"So," the interviewer said, "do you think you'll see each other again?"

"No." She shook her head and looked out the window, spinning her diamond stud earring around and around. "It wasn't– No. But it was really fun! And," she grinned and pointed at the camera, "I'll keep watching you on telly, Doctor. And so will my mum. Don't worry. It was a great night. Uhm, I'd recommend going on a date with the Doctor to anyone. Yeah. Go get him, ladies."

The reel ended and Jack switched off the TV, then tossed the remote onto the table and groaned when it slid off and landed on the floor.

"She looked disappointed," Gwen said, getting up and putting the remote back before sitting down again. "Are you gonna edit that out?"

"Thanks. Probably, yeah. I think we need to doctor it in general, actually. Hah. Doctor it." Jack sighed, rubbing one eye. "I don't know. I'm torn. If Rose hadn't been my friend? I'd make sure they edited it to look like she was into him, but he wasn't into her. It would make good TV, right? We'd make people invested, fall in love with this sweet girl who was snubbed by the Doctor, and then we could do a Bachelorette special with Rose, you know? People would tune in for that, for sure. But– I can't do that to Rose. She's my friend, I can't– Wow, I should not have set up my friends on TV."

"No." Gwen turned to him, knees bumping into his thigh. "You were trying to help, though."

"Yeah." He leant back in the sofa, resting his head on the backrest and rolling the cold tumbler over his forehead. "I can't stand seeing him so miserable. Because he is. He doesn't wanna be alone. Not really."

"Maybe he just needs time, eh? Maybe–"

"He could have all the time in the world – he could be the fucking lord of it – and he still wouldn't go on a real date with someone. It's not about time. He thinks he's cursed or something."

"Can you blame him? That poor man. Losing two wives. He's not had it easy, has he?"

"No, but… I just want him to be happy for a change. Is that too much to ask?"

"No," she said, rubbing his arm. "Jack? Would you like to come over tomorrow? You and Ianto. Dinner with me and Rhys."

Jack perked up, smirk quirking his mouth.

"Get your mind out of the gutter," she said, giving him a stern look. "I'm not inviting you over for group sex, you dirty wanker. Just dinner. Just meeting your new boyfriend in a normal way."

"You're no fun." Jack pouted and she rolled her eyes at him, making him smile.

"And… Look, maybe John doesn't need time. Maybe you're right about that. Maybe John needs… frequent exposure."

Jack sat up straight. "I'm listening."

"Well, I was thinking, you know them both, _Love Captain_. Maybe during dinner we could… scheme a little?"

"You mean, make sure they 'run into' one another?"

"Well… Stranger things have happened, right? They live in the same city, after all."

Jack's grin stretched from ear to ear. "That's the most brilliant plan I've heard in ages." 

* * *

**.**

* * *

"It's starting, sweetheart," Jackie called from the living room.

"That's okay," Rose called back, snuggled up in bed under the covers and flipping through an old magazine. She heard shuffling coming closer and sighed, dropping the magazine to her lap. "What?" she asked with her most petulant expression and bored tone before her mum had even shown up at the door.

Jackie leant against the doorframe, arms crossed. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Don't you wanna watch your date?"

"Don't need to, do I? I was there, remember? And you already know what a disaster it was, anyway."

"No, I don't. How could I? You went straight to bed instead of talking to me."

"You saw it in the studio!"

"Oh, that. Nah, they only showed bits and pieces in between segments from those other couples and that. Come now, Rose. How often d'you think you'll end up on telly, anyway? Fast forward a year and you'll regret not sitting down with me and having toffee popcorn and that nice bottle of red–"

"Toffee popcorn?" Rose sniffed the air but couldn't sense anything other than laundry detergent and the half-drunk cup of tea on her nightstand. "I can't smell any toffee popcorn."

"Haven't made it yet, have I?"

"All right." Rose laughed. "And the nice wine? Was that a fib too?"

Jackie shook her head. "It's Jimmy's."

"Oh."

"He forgot it here Christmas last. Was saving it for a rainy day. Reckon this one's as good as any."

"Yeah..." Rose sighed. "Okay, then. Why the hell not."

Halfway into the programme, Jackie nudged Rose with her elbow and winked. "If that man don't fancy you, I'm gonna eat my purple stilettos. And I adore my purple stilettos to bits! They're lucky, you know. Never had a bloke turn me down when I've worn those. Once I even got lucky in an a–"

"Oh, my god." Rose took the wine glass out of her mother's hand. "I forgot that you always overshare when you have red wine. I do not want to hear the rest of that story."

Her mum shrugged, unperturbed. "He does, though. Fancy you. Anyone can tell."

"We did it for the show. You know? Flirted and that. Anything you see's just acting."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We made a deal before the date. Play it up for the cameras, then go our separate ways."

Jackie lifted her eyebrows and let out a high pitched hum. "So what's his reason, then? For turning you down. Too high and mighty for my daughter, is he?"

"No. He just doesn't do domestics. Remember that article? It was true. He's done it before, yeah? Twice. Isn't interested in doing it again. You of all people should understand that."

"Suppose it's for the best, though. It is quite the age difference. He could be your father! Yeah, he is a doctor, I'll give him that, but I can't say I would've been overjoyed to get a son-in-law who's even older than me."

"Yeah…"

Rose finished her mum's wine glass and snuggled up against the armrest, blanket pulled up to her shoulders. She felt Jackie's eyes on her, but kept her own on the telly. They'd reached the point of the date when a man had walked up to the Doctor to show his mole. Rose's cheeks heated up and she tugged the blanket a little bit higher, holding her breath. She'd forgot the cameras for a moment, forgot that they documented their every move, and had stared at the Doctor and his careful fingers examining that man. She'd stared and she'd licked her lips and, ugh.

Her throat felt dry, but she'd have to leave her shielding cocoon to refill her glass, so she shrunk farther back into the sofa and forced a swallow. Any second now, all of Britain would see her having one-sided eye-sex with the Doctor and his fingers.

A relieved sigh escaped her when she realised that the whole bit with the man had been edited out. Thank god for Jack. 

* * *

**.**

* * *

Rose stumbled to the kitchen, squinting against the bright light, and fumbled after the electric kettle. A man cleared his throat and she spun around, smoothing down her messy hair and smacking her dry lips.

"Just me, Rose," Mickey said, sitting across from her mum at the kitchen table, fingers wrapped around a big, yellow mug. "Morning."

"Oh. Hi. Morning." She turned back to the counter and filled the kettle with water. "What are you doing here?"

"Washing machine's on the fritz again," Jackie said.

"Well, don't let me keep you." Rose put the kettle onto the base and turned it on. "I've got work, anyway. Start my shift at noon. Need to shower and–"

"You've got the day off," Jackie said. "They rang earlier."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't understood what they said, rambling on about this and that. I don't know that stuff. But they had some reason. The important thing is that you have the day off."

"And I, uh," Mickey cleared his throat, "yeah, I'm done. Already. Already fixed the washer."

"Right," Rose said, eyeing him. He was spotless. She folded her arms over her chest. "And you're still here cos…?"

"Rose! Did you leave your manners in the bedroom? He's having a cuppa for a job well done. And it's been awhile since Mickey's come round, so I reckoned maybe we could have a nice day in. Just the three of us. Like old times, yeah? Films and–"

Rose cut her off with a loud sigh and an eyeroll. "What's going on? I'm not stupid, you know. Something's up, so you can just tell me what it is."

Jackie shot Mickey a quick glance, then leaned over to the window and pulled out a rolled up newspaper page from behind the curtains. "Here. It's from today. It's about your date. And please don't mess it up. I'm keeping it for my scrapbook."

"Oh, my god." Rose closed her eyes, holding the piece of paper as though it was sharp enough to slice off her fingers. "It's so bad you called in sick for me at work?"

"Just thought you'd prefer to stay home today, that's all."

"I don't wanna read it," Rose said, shaking her head, and handed over the roll of paper. "Just tell me what it says."

"Well," her mum laid it down on the table, "allegedly you came off as a bit of a slag. And no class or manners and that. And they said that the Doctor would never go out with someone like you and that he regretted his decision as soon as he saw you, but he was too polite to refuse. And now he and Jack are on unfriendly terms, they said."

"What? Who the hell said that?"

"Apparently someone who was at the studio. They overheard you arguing about it in the greenroom and then found out that Jack's team had to edit the footage from the date quite a lot."

"What? But that wasn't at all what happened!"

"I know, sweetheart. It's just some stupid git wanting money."

"Oh, my god," Rose said, hiding her face in her hands. "Ugh, I'm going back to bed."

"Rose, Jack's phoned three times. He sounded really wo–"

"I don't care!" Rose slammed the door behind her and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her head.

* * *

**.**

* * *

Jack held the receiver at arm's length, scrunching up his face at the angry words hurled out by his best friend. John had little worry for himself and his reputation and mostly focussed on Rose and how the horrible article must've affected her. Even though Jack was worried himself, he couldn't help but smile at that.

Once John's breathing turned laboured and he took longer pauses between rants, Jack put the phone back to his ear. "Hey-hey-hey. Calm down, Doc. Calm down."

"Don't tell me to ca–"

"Listen! I get why you're upset, I really do, but I've been doing this for a long time so you better listen to me. As long as we don't react, this will die down. That's how these things work. Tomorrow someone's gonna have a nip-slip or get caught having an affair, and people will forget all about the Doctor and Rose Tyler. But if you react? That's when the speculating's gonna start and, trust me, that's gonna be even harder on her. Okay? The studio's gonna do an internal investigation to see who the fuck it was who called up the paper. But that's it."

John exhaled slowly. "Have you, er, talked to her, then?"

"No, not yet. But I'll keep trying."

"I'd like to talk to her. If she wants. Apologise and that."

"I don't know, Doc. I've gotten ahold of her mom, and, uh, Rose stayed home from work today. I think–"

"But she needs the money! That idiot she dated left her in debt."

"I know. I think she just needed a day to digest this, you know? So I think you should give her a chance to calm down before you talk to her."

John paused, then said, "Makes sense. Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I'll give her a ring at the end of the week, then."

"Sounds good. 'Kay, I need to get back to work. Bye." Jack hung up and rose from his office chair, letting out a long breath and pacing the room. "Okay, where were we?"

"Well," Ianto said, "you were just about to phone Keisha and ask her very politely if she could pretend to be sick tomorrow and ask Rose to cover for her at Henrik's. I think the sum we agreed upon offering her for this favour is more than reasonable and she will most likely say yes. If not, I have acquired the phone numbers to three more of Rose's colleagues."

"Fantastic." Jack grinned. "You, Ianto, are a fucking awesome assistant."

"I try my best, sir."

"Yes, you do. And what about the internal investigation?"

"Nothing yet, I'm sad to report."

"Damn. You know, as horrible as it is, and as much as I wanna strangle whoever it was who contacted the press, it's kinda good too, isn't it? This might actually _help_ us get those two crazy kids together."

"The thought may have struck me as well."

"I'm not surprised." Jack smirked and slipped his suspenders over his shoulders. "Think we can spare ten minutes, right? Better lock the door this time, though."

The smallest smile graced Ianto's lips, eyes warm and sparkling. "Very well, sir."

* * *

**.**

* * *

"I just sat down for lunch." John sighed into his mobile, putting down the menu he was holding. "This better be important."

"Come on, Doc. Would I ever disturb you in the middle of lunch if it wasn't?"

"Yes."

"Today is nuts! You wouldn't believe the amount of work I have. And I have this gift waiting to be picked up at Henrik's. Can you do me a solid and get it before you get over to the studio to film your bit with Harriet?"

John huffed. "Don't you have assistants? That pretty boy in the smart suit who's always following you around. Can't you tell him to go fetch?"

"Ianto? Oh, I tell him to fetch my stick on a regular basis."

"Ah. Congratulations," John said, leaving the restaurant with a wistful, lingering look at the banana cream pudding eaten by a guest at one of the window tables. This place was much too busy at lunch time for him to get his food in time to fit in a trip to Henrik's as well. "He seems like a nice enough bloke."

"Thanks, Doc. And it's for him. So I can't really ask him to go pick it up, okay?"

"Suppose not."

"So… Would you–"

"Already on my way, Captain."

"Brilliant. Just head over to the men's suit department, find a shopgirl, give her my name and tell her you're picking up the gift-wrapped suit. It's already paid for. Thanks! See you later!"

"Now, hold on a minute. Have you talked to Rose yet?"

"Yeah. She finally picked up yesterday evening. She–" Jack paused. "She, uh, yeah, she seemed a little upset."

John sighed. "It's my fault."

"No, it's not. Don't do that to yourself."

"Well," John said, looking up at the building in front of him, "I'm at Henrik's. We can talk about it later."

"Later means nev–"

John hung up and weaved his way through the store in search of the men's suit department. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about Rose, picturing her flushed red with shame, just because he couldn't keep his poker face on telly. She'd been nothing but lovely on their date and didn't deserve people thinking ill of her.

Realising he'd been too deep in thought to know where he was going, John stopped and looked around to orientate himself. A blond employee stood a couple of metres ahead, folding something silky into neat stacks, and he rushed over to her to ask for help.

"Excuse me, miss–" The woman whirled around, hair whipping around her pink cheeks, and his jaw dropped. "What are you doing here?"

Rose frowned. "I work here!"

"Well, what do you do that for?"

"Because I do! And I'm only here cos Keisha's sick, anyway."

"Who?"

Rose sighed, returning to her task whilst talking. "It's my day off. I always have Tuesdays and Wednesdays off. But Keisha, that's my co-worker, she's sick today. And I was–" Rose pursed her lips, exhaling through her nose. "I was home yesterday, so I need the money."

"Oh. You never, er, never said you worked at Henrik's."

She shrugged. "Didn't think you cared. Said I was a shopgirl, though. Reckoned that was enough. What are you here for, then?" She gave him a lookover. "Updating your wardrobe?"

He furrowed his brow, pinching the fabric of his green wool jumper. "What's wrong with this?"

"Nothing, really. But you always wear the same thing, yeah? Aren't you ever gonna change?"

"I change my jumpers! Have ten of this one, all different colours!"

She chuckled, biting her lip. "Yeah, all right. So, not updating your wardrobe, then."

"No, I, er, I'm picking up something for Jack."

"Oh! The suit, yeah? I helped pick it out. C'mon. I'll take you there."

"Are you sure? Don't want to interrupt your work."

She shook her head at him, smiling. "Helping customers _is_ my work. C'mon, Doctor."

* * *

**tbc**


End file.
